


Coming Back

by surena_13



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: 6x02, Episode Tag, F/M, Minor Spoilers, jss, season 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 14:35:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5052367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surena_13/pseuds/surena_13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl returns to Alexandria after everything that happened in 6.01 and 6.02. A sort of sequel to Not Saying Goodbye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Back

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not my characters  
> A/N: Blame kingstonmcbride for this one ;)

The smell of death and burning flesh was the first thing he noticed when he entered Alexandria. Despite having herded the largest group of walkers he had ever seen and having been surrounded by their decaying stink for the better part of the day, Daryl could still smell the slaughter in the air and it made his blood run cold. Somewhere he had known that this would happen eventually, but the illusion of safety had pushed that thought the back of his head. And now here it was, the peaceful streets of Alexandria had seen their first real battle and it had been brutal.

 

He recognized the people from his own group working on collecting the bodies. They’d need a bigger cemetery now. It reminded him of the prison, of Terminus, just mindless violence, blood and guts and limbs from defenseless people who had been torn apart by what once had been just normal human beings. The world had gone insane, he knew that, and yet this still managed to surprise him. But it had shocked the people of Alexandria into finally accepting the cruel reality that existed outside of their walls.

 

Morgan had already told him that while Alexandria had been decimated, their own group hadn’t lost anybody, but that didn’t make seeing all the familiar faces any less of a relief, knowing they were all alive. The only one he hadn't seen driving slowly through the red-stained streets was Carol. He knew she had to be somewhere. He had heard it mentioned what she had done. He had to see her, look into her eyes and know that she hadn’t had to sacrifice yet another part of herself.

 

“She’s home, the backyard I think,” Aaron said, wiping the blood off his hands on his irreparably stained trousers. Eric was standing behind him, looking equally exhausted and dirty, even while limping around with his screwed up ankle, but at least the two of them were still alive which was more than he could say for a lot of families in this town. Daryl nodded and parked his motorcycle in front of their garage. He was about to head home when Aaron’s voice stopped him. “She saved us. I don’t even know how, but suddenly she was there. She was everywhere. She stopped them from getting to the armory. I don’t think we would have made it without her.”

 

Daryl pressed his lips together. She wouldn’t see it like that. She’d look at the blood on her hands, the bodies in the street and wonder why she hadn’t saved more. Not that she would ever voice those thoughts, but they would definitely be there, weighing her down, giving her nightmares that she refused to talk about and he was unable to protect her from. The urge to find her was even bigger now and he was glad that she was exactly where Aaron had said she would be, sitting on the ground in the garden, leaning against the back wall, an unlit cigarette between her bloody fingers.

 

“Carol.” The sound of his voice made her look up and for the briefest of moments, she looked dazed, as if she had no idea where she was or who he was, but then she blinked and it was gone. She looked like she had gone through hell, blood everywhere, from her hands to the faded ‘W’ on her forehead, in grubby clothes he didn’t recognize and were two size too big for her. He saw the clean tracks her tears had made in the grime on her face. She looked terrible, but she was Carol again. Gone was the happy, vulnerable housewife mask and back was the woman who had single-handedly saved them all from cannibals. She had stopped pretending to be a woman he hadn’t fallen in love with.

 

“You’re back,” she stated. She sounded relieved. Someone must have told her what happened then, the exodus ahead of schedule, the herd that had broken off and moved towards Alexandria. They had managed to stop it, turn it around, killing stragglers, but it still hadn’t been pretty or easy. Nothing compared to the Wolves attacking a seemingly defenseless town. It wouldn’t surprise him if they had waited until most of strongest looking men were gone.

 

“So are you.” Not even hideous florals or freshly baked cookies gonna convince people now that she was harmless. She had shown them what she was capable of, had saved them. Being underestimated had been her best form of protection in Alexandria and she given it up for them. She was back, no more being invisible. Everyone would see her now. Carol didn’t react, she just looked at the cigarette.

 

“Need a light for that?” Daryl asked as he sat down next to her, dropping his crossbow in the grass. He knew she didn’t smoke. She didn’t even like it when he was smoking, even though she had never said anything. He wondered if she would ever stop surprising when she held out the cigarette for him with a curt nod. Retrieving the lighter, he lit the cigarette, the white of the paper looking oddly pristine between her dirty fingers, and watched as she brought it to a lips and took a long drag.

 

“I hate smoking. I told her it would kill her. I suppose it did.” She didn’t look at him while she talked. She never really did when she was trying to avoid showing too much emotion. He kept his mouth shut as he looked at her. Carol was not the kind of person to be interrogated. If she wanted to share, she would. He wouldn’t be able to pull it out of her if it were something she was trying to forget. This time however there were other people to tell the story, turn into a savior she didn’t want to be or twist whatever she had done into something evil. He wouldn’t listen to them anyway. People lied, Carol didn’t, not to him. She merely didn’t tell him if she didn’t want to.

 

Daryl tried not to be too surprised when she shifted a little closer to him and leaned against his side. His Carol being back, being able to let people that they were a couple, showing that in public, of sorts, it would take some getting used to, but he didn’t mind it at all. He wrapped an arm around her, just content to sit here in silence with her, not caring about the smell of walkers that clung to his clothes or the smell of blood that seemed to have seeped into her pores.

 

“Do you think it will ever stop, the killing, the walkers, the insanity?” Carol asked, staring at the cigarette between her fingers, the smoke slowing curling up into the air. She sounded so calm, so distant. She’d be okay again soon. She had to be. It was what happened. You either learned to be okay or you couldn’t handle it anymore. Carol was too strong, too stubborn, to lose her grip. She’d be okay and when the next crisis came, she’d take care of that as well. It was who she was.

 

“D’you want the truth?” They were all infected, any concept of law or order had disappeared. People survived, took advantage, went insane or became a walker. There was nothing else. There was no changing this world, unless they all somehow up and died. It was just a matter of not letting this world get to you. Most of the people in their group had learned to do this, but everybody has their weak moments. When they lost someone or when they had to do unspeakable things. It was only natural.

 

“No.”

 

“Then yeah. They’ll cure the infection, clean up the walkers and we will rebuild civilization. You and me live fucking happily ever after. We’ll have world peace and no more hunger,” he said, unable to keep the disbelief out of his voice. It was a nice thought, a very implausible one, but a nice thought to have nonetheless. Carol smiled and rested her head against his shoulder. Daryl was almost certain that she was thinking of this morning, how easy it had been, how neither of them could have thought the day would turn out like this, but at least, like Aaron and Eric or Rick and Michonne, they still had each other.

 

“You’re a terrible liar. Thank you.” He squeezed her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. On the streets, he could hear the people getting rid of the bodies, washing the blood off the houses, all too familiar sounds, but here in this backyard with her, it was calm. It was all he needed to know that this was enough for him. He didn’t need peace or no more walkers. He just needed her, nothing more. Somehow together they’d be okay.


End file.
